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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26569765">What a Fool You Have Made Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADreamIsASoftPlaceToLand/pseuds/ADreamIsASoftPlaceToLand'>ADreamIsASoftPlaceToLand</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, But He Gets Better, Canon Asexual Character, M/M, Sparring, as a treat, canon-typical communication issues, minor spoilers up through ep 170, that's not super important but it's there, the inherent romantic tension of sparring with your crush, wilde is a bit of an asshole, wilde learns melee fighting, zolf can have many kisses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:47:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,115</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26569765</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADreamIsASoftPlaceToLand/pseuds/ADreamIsASoftPlaceToLand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Zolf offers to teach Wilde some melee skills, the inherent romance of sparring with your crush Ensues.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>103</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What a Fool You Have Made Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/buzzbuzz34/gifts">buzzbuzz34</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>thanks to Kellan @celsidebottom on tumblr for helping come up with this idea. it ended up being unSPEAKABLY tender and i hope you're happy. (go check out his writing also it's heckin incredible)</p><p>fic title from Stray Italian Greyhound by Vienna Teng</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Zolf knocks on the door to Wilde’s office, waiting for the customary grumbled, “What <em>now</em>?” from the other side before entering. Wilde looks tired, as usual, but he smirks at Zolf when he comes in. “Ah, Mr. Smith, what can I do for you? How’s the uh… Body swap going?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zolf shoots a glare at Wilde, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s going about as well as can be expected. We haven’t crashed the ship yet, so that’s something.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wilde hums absentmindedly, fiddling with some papers on his desk. Zolf takes sighs, “Right, look. I- Cel mentioned to me that… That they offered to teach you how to make potions, right? Since you can’t use your magic.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">At this, Wilde’s hands stop fidgeting, and his gaze snaps to Zolf’s. “Is… this a <em>problem</em>, Mr. Smith?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">For a moment, Zolf could almost say there’s a twinge of <em>fear</em> in Wilde’s eyes, like he’s a child and Zolf’s threatening to take away his favorite toy. Zolf furrows his brow, and files that thought away to revisit later, when Wilde continues to deny how losing his magic has affected him. “No, Wilde, it’s <em>fine</em>. What you get up to in your free time is none of my business, so long as it’s not putting anyone else on the ship in danger. It- well. It gave me an idea, actually, and I wanted to run it by you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">In a flash, the fear is gone, replaced entirely with a coy curiosity as Wilde arches an eyebrow. “Oh? Color me intrigued!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zolf can’t resist rolling his eyes at that. “Don’t get too excited. I was thinking that, now that we’re flying into some dangerous territory, you should learn how to defend yourself without magic. Cel can help you make potions and things, but those won’t help when your enemies are within a few feet from you. You can’t set off a bomb at your feet because there’s someone coming at you with a sword.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wilde tilts his head, frowning. “What, precisely, are you suggesting?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I think you need to practice some melee attacks. Learn how to fight with a <em>weapon</em> instead of relying on ranged attacks and magic you don’t have access to anymore. I’m offering to… To teach you. Sparring, I guess,” Zolf shrugs, shifting his weight from foot-to-foot restlessly. He hates the way Wilde draws out conversations like this. Has to know every detail, has to keep him <em>talking</em> even when he’d rather just be <em>done</em> with it and move on. Not that he’s really one to talk, with the way he pushes Wilde into talking about his feelings all the time…</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He’s broken out of his thoughts by Wilde huffing out something like a laugh. “Well there’s no need to get bashful about it. My, my you are easily flustered, aren’t you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zolf doesn’t comment on the fact that Wilde’s looking a tad flushed himself, he couldn’t pinpoint <em>why</em> anyway. “Look, do you want to learn, or not? Just answer the question, Wilde, I’ve got other work to do besides sit here and wait for you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Touchy,” Wilde tsks, “yes, alright, we can try it out. Though, I can’t say I’m particularly thrilled about the idea of… Getting my <em>hands</em> <em>dirty</em>, as it were.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zolf huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes. “Right. Meet me on deck in an hour, and we’ll start.”</p><p class="p3">
  
</p><hr/><p class="p3">
  
</p><p class="p1">An hour later, Zolf stands facing Wilde on the deck of the ship. Wilde has his arms crossed over his chest, an eyebrow raised as he appraises Zolf. “Are you <em>quite</em> sure you’re the best person for this job, Mr. Smith? I mean. I’m nearly thrice your size, I can’t imagine that you could <em>rea</em>-“</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wilde looks up at Zolf from the deck, flat on his back with a dazed look in his eyes. Zolf stands over him, cocking his head and smirking as he asks, “You were saying?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zolf can see Wilde blink for a moment, and then swallow. “Right, well,” he offers a hand to help Wilde to his feet. “We’ll start with the basics.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They spend about an hour warming up and going over basic disarming moves, and while Zolf <em>tries</em> to go easy on him, he has to admit it’s quite fun to wipe the smug grin off Wilde’s face. Every time Zolf knocks him over, Wilde gets grumpier and grumpier. He swipes at his hair, which is just long enough to get in the way, but not quite long enough to tie back, and pouts. “There is a <em>reason</em>, Mr. Smith, that I use magic in battle. Being <em>sweaty</em> and- <em>touching</em> is absolutely despicable.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Can’t say I disagree with you there, Wilde,” Zolf concedes. “But that’s not the point of melee fighting. It isn’t magic, it isn’t pretty. It’s life or death and you <em>have</em> to know which side you want to end up on, or the decision will be made for you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He begins to circle Wilde again, watching his guard go up, his stance shifting to mirror Zolf’s. “You have to commit, you can’t hesitate. That’s what will get you killed. Don’t overthink it. Go with your gut, and never fight fair. If you see something you can use, if you know you have an advantage, <em>use it</em>.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zolf sees Wilde’s move a moment before he makes it. Zolf has stepped close to a pile of rope that’s heaped under a stairwell, and Wilde lunges to grab it and trip him up, but Zolf pushes into his space instead, knocking him back onto his ass and pinning him against the wall. He’s much shorter than Wilde, but with Wilde down at his level the shock and frustration on his face is sweet and coils pleasantly in Zolf’s stomach. He smirks again, “And <em>don’t</em> look at where you’re going to move before you <em>do</em> it. Your moves are too obvious, Wilde. I saw that coming a mile away.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wilde huffs. “Well, maybe that <em>wasn’t</em> my move,” he quirks an eyebrow at Zolf, and Zolf suddenly realizes how close they are with Wilde pinned beneath him, both still slightly out of breath. “Maybe I <em>wanted</em> you to get closer to me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">For a moment, Zolf can only blink at Wilde. “Oh? And what exactly did you plan on doing, down here, pinned to a wall?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wilde’s gaze goes… <em>soft</em> for a moment and Zolf feels his breath catch. He tilts his chin up at Zolf and Zolf can see his gaze drift down from his eyes to his mouth. “Something I’ve… Wanted to do for quite some time, I think.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zolf starts, flinching back a bit as the gravity of Wilde’s words settles in his chest. The feeling is… not unpleasant, but certainly not expected. Wilde tilts his head forward just slightly, leaving enough time for Zolf to move away, but Zolf… stays. He stays, and he finds he does not <em>want</em> to move away. Wilde continues to lean almost imperceptibly closer, pushing gently against the arm that has gone slack against his chest, and Zolf feels his eyes flutter closed as Wilde closes the gap between them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Their lips brush, just barely, Wilde’s lips ghosting over his own, just enough for Zolf to feel the gentle smile on them. And then, something knocks against the back of his knees, and his eyes fly open as he falls to the ground, his body hitting the hard wood of the deck as Wilde leans over him, barely restrained mirth sparking across his face. “Well, that’s <em>very</em> interesting and useful information. Who knew the stalwart sea captain could be distracted by a little <em>romance</em>?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zolf sits up. “You <em>bastard</em>. Are you fucking kidding me?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wilde is <em>giggling, far</em> too pleased with himself. And, yeah, Zolf can admit, that was a smart move but… Also a bit of a low blow. It… stings a bit, the realization that that was just… Whatever it was. A trick, a trap. It’s humiliating that he fell for that, that for just a <em>moment</em> he actually thought-</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wilde must see whatever emotions are passing over his face, because his smile falters a bit and he asks, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zolf shakes his head, standing. “Nothing bruised but my pride, I suppose. I think we’re done for today, though. You’ve learned enough.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He brushes himself off and begins to turn away, but Wilde catches him by the shoulder. “Now, just wait a moment. What happened? I… Why are you upset? You’re not the kind to be a sore loser, Zolf.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zolf hisses a breath in through his teeth and glares up at Wilde with all the effort he can muster. “Look, that was a nice trick, and it <em>worked</em>, but. It’s the fact that it <em>worked</em> that’s the problem, isn’t it? I- <em>I wanted that</em>, Wilde. And you- you just. You just used it to get to me. Which. Yeah, great initiative there and you sure did take my advice, but I didn’t think you’d punch <em>quite</em> so low, y’know? I didn’t think, after two years of- of <em>whatever</em> we’ve been doing, that our first kiss would be you trying to knock me on my ass, ok?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wilde’s brow furrows. “I… I didn’t think-“</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Before Wilde can finish his sentence, Zolf shrugs him off. “Look, it’s <em>fine</em>, alright? It doesn’t have to be a big deal just. Just don’t do that again, ok? Don’t use my feelings for you against me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">This time, when Zolf turns away, Wilde lets him go.</p><p class="p1"> </p><hr/><p class="p3">
  
</p><p class="p1">Zolf spends the rest of the day avoiding Wilde as much as he can, and Wilde seems to be doing the same. He tries not to think about the afternoon, he can’t let this affect their professional relationship, not when so many lives are at stake, but there’s a twinge behind his ribs for the rest of the day.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He puts someone else on the night shift for once, retreating to his cabin where he can be alone for a bit. It’s when he’s settling in for the night that there’s a knock on his cabin door. He sighs, supposing it was wishful thinking that they could get through a night without issue, and shuffles over to the door. “Alright, what is it-“</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As he swings open the door, he cuts himself off at the sight of Wilde standing in the hallway, hand poised to knock again. “Ah, Zolf, you- good you’re here.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zolf waits a moment for him to continue, but Wilde looks almost… Lost, standing in his doorway. He sighs, his shoulders slumping in defeat, “Right, you comin’ in or not?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wilde blinks at him for a moment, but then nods and slips past Zolf into the cabin. Zolf gestures for Wilde to take a seat at the desk, but Wilde shuffles awkwardly, refusing to settle and stay still. Something about this uncertainty grates on Zolf, and something that feels maybe a little jagged and broken in him causes him to snap, “Spit it out, what do you need, Wilde? I don’t have all night.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wilde flinches, and Zolf feels a twinge of regret. Wilde’s been through enough, has enough to <em>worry about</em> without <em>him</em> adding to the pile. Wilde looks up, and his expression looks almost <em>bashful</em> as he finally speaks. “I… wanted to apologize. For this afternoon. I- you were right. It wasn’t fair of me to- to use you like that. I shouldn’t have tricked you. I’m sorry, Zolf. I’m sorry that I did this all the wrong way. You deserve better than that. Better than <em>me</em>. And I wanted you to know that I- it wasn’t-“ he cuts off as his voice breaks just a little, and he inhales and exhales deep and steadying before continuing, “it wasn’t <em>just</em> a trick, to me. I- I wanted it, too, and I don’t- I don’t want that to be how this happens. I don’t want that to be our first kiss.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zolf’s are wide, and his heart is thrumming in his chest like the flapping of a sail in a storm. Wilde- Wilde wants this, too. Wilde wants <em>him</em>, too. The realization hits him like sugar on his tongue, sweet and comforting and just a bit thrilling. Wilde reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, mussing it more than it already is after a day of physical exercise and exposure to the sea breeze. “I… I understand if- if I’ve ruined things. But, if you don’t mind, I… Well, to be perfectly honest, Mr. Smith, I’d quite like to start over to- to try again. To… To kiss you again and kiss you the way you <em>deserve</em> to be kissed.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zolf’s breath catches, and he swallows. His voice is soft and low as he takes a step forward, “And how’s that, Wilde?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He’s close enough now that he hears the hitch in Wilde’s breath as his gaze snaps to Zolf’s. Wilde’s eyes are wide and <em>excited</em>, and his mouth quirks into a grin before he closes the distance between them. Zolf tilts his head up to meet Wilde, but Wilde leans down and, instead of kissing him, presses a soft, gentle kiss to his forehead. Zolf eyes shut and his brow furrows, and as Wilde pulls away he tilts his head to the side, confusion writing itself across his features.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wilde’s smile is soft, almost <em>shy</em>, as he reaches out to take Zolf’s hands, tugging him over towards the bed. Zolf hesitates for a moment, realizing where Wilde is going, but Wilde only runs his thumbs over the back of his hands and shakes his head. “Don’t worry, I’m not- Come here. Sit with me.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The quiet hope in Wilde’s expression nearly knocks Zolf off his feet. Wilde is cavalier, bold and brash and a ridiculous <em>flirt</em>, but right now he’s just… Gentle. Open. Earnest, and so very soft that Zolf can barely breathe knowing he’s the one that makes Wilde feel like this. He follows Wilde to the bed, and they sit beside each other, hands still intertwined.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wilde is closer to his height when they’re sitting, but still has a few inches on him, and he looks down at Zolf with something like fondness, and Zolf feels warmer than he thinks should be possible in the frigid northern air. He raises an eyebrow, and asks, “So?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He grins when a laugh puffs out of Wilde, like he wasn’t expecting it. Wilde looks down at their hands, and squeezes them gently. Zolf squeezes back, smiling soft and inviting at Wilde. Wilde lets go of his hands in favor of reaching up to gently brush his thumbs over Zolf’s cheeks. Zolf thinks he forgets how to breathe for a moment, when he glances up to meet Wilde’s gaze. It’s almost terrifying, the depth of emotion he can see there. Zolf thinks he might drown in that feeling, when Wilde closes the distance between them. Zolf has to stifle a gasp as their lips touch; Wilde’s lips are soft and his delicate hands still press gently against his cheeks, and Zolf doesn’t move for a moment, just savoring the feeling.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Then, he relaxes, and kisses Wilde back, tilting his head slightly to slot their faces together more comfortably. He can’t stop his hands from reaching up to cup Wilde’s face in turn. He feels Wilde lean into his calloused hands, and Zolf lets them roam, moving from Wilde’s cheeks down his neck, and tangling his disheveled hair. It’s softer than he expects, flowing like silk through his fingers. Wilde hums into his mouth, half sigh half pleasure, and Zolf can’t resist letting his lips tug up into a smirk at Wilde’s lack of reservations. It’s rare to see this man without his guard up, and something in Zolf thrums at the idea that he gets to see him like this. That he <em>makes</em> Wilde feel… Vulnerable. Comfortable.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After a minute or two, Wilde pulls away, their eyes fluttering open. Zolf feels suddenly shy, sitting beside Wilde with all this… Emotion between them. The corner of Wilde’s mouth quirks up at whatever expression is showing on his face, and he attempts to glare but he thinks it comes out just fond in the end. He reaches up to brush Wilde’s hair back from his face, and doesn’t miss the way Wilde leans towards the ghost of Zolf’s touch on his skin.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zolf grins, “Well, <em>that</em> was quite the first kiss.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Wilde chuckles, his head ducking a bit, a curtain of hair falling into his face as he reaches out again to take Zolf’s hands. “It certainly <em>was</em>. But… If- if you don’t mind, I- I wasn’t actually finished with you, yet.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zolf’s mouth falls open in a quiet <em>oh</em>, and he looks to their hands between them, squeezing Wilde’s hands and hoping that he can convey in the gesture the emotions he can’t really put to words right now. Wilde doesn’t say anything, but instead lifts Zolf’s hands and presses soft kisses to each knuckle, before flipping his hand and pressing his lips to the center of Zolf’s palms. Zolf’s heart is <em>racing </em>and he feels overwhelmed with emotion for the care that Wilde shows him as he kisses his way up Zolf’s wrists, before dropping his hands and cupping his face again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Are you alright?” Wilde asks, his voice so soft Zolf almost doesn’t catch the words, and he nods, leaning into Wilde’s gentle embrace and closing his eyes. He shudders as Wilde kisses him again, then tilts up a bit to press another kiss to Zolf’s forehead. Zolf takes a shuddering breath as Wilde begins to pepper his face with kisses. He thinks he might start to cry, if Wilde keeps going like this, pressing kiss after kiss to his cheeks, his nose, his lips, his forehead, down his neck and jaw and to the sensitive skin behind his ear.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As Wilde continues to kiss him, he begins to murmur softly against Zolf’s skin. <em>I’m sorry I hurt you, you deserve better, you deserve to be </em><b><em>so loved, </em></b><em>Zolf, I want you to know that you </em><b><em>are</em></b><em>. You are </em><b><em>so loved</em></b><em>, Zolf. So appreciated and loved and- and I won’t stop until you know, because you deserve to know how good you are, how loved and adored and cherished. How dear you are to me, Zolf.</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Zolf <em>does</em> start crying then, but Wilde just kisses away his tears and murmurs comfort and love into his skin. Zolf has not been loved many times in his life, but if this is what it feels like, he thinks he could learn to get used to it, and he doesn’t want this feeling to fade for a long time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>you can come find me on tumblr @shorter-than-her-tbr-pile</p></blockquote></div></div>
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